The Experiment
by sam938
Summary: Janeway attempts a sociological experiment that leaves Chakotay at a loss about how to respond. J/C
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimers. Paramount owns the characters, etc. etc. Please do not archive or use the writing without my permission.

A/N. This tale was written in the late 90s. It's J/C, of course, but I hope, amusing as well. Complete. 3 chapters.

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Chakotay barreled into Kathryn Janeway's Ready Room on autopilot, his head down, his eyes on the report on the PADD in his hand. She'd want to know about the results of the experiment right away. They needed to talk about the next phase before he let Engineering implement it.

B'Elanna, as usual, was chomping at the bit to try one option and Seven, of course, disagreed. He dreaded even thinking about what they could come up with if he left them alone to work it out. There were only two possible outcomes as far as he could see: dismemberment or death. Of whom, he wasn't sure.

He was just going to make sure that it wasn't going to be him. The rest, as Seven would say, was "irrelevant." The way he felt right now he wouldn't care either way.

He kept his eyes on the PADD, moving instinctively. As he promptly fell over the chair in the middle of the room, he thought, irrelevantly, that he knew the Ready Room by heart -at least he had yesterday.

He was moving too fast to break his fall. He went down, watched his PADD fly in one direction, the chair in the other, and swore.

When the pain in his leg started to subside, he looked up and found himself staring into the clear blue eyes of the idiot who'd rearranged the furniture. Then he prayed that he hadn't said his last thought aloud.

The Captain looked at him in satisfaction. "I thought so."

"What?"

"I was conducting an experiment. I was right." Janeway knelt down next to him and started rubbing his upper thigh.

He sat up, dumbfounded. "Kathryn, what are you *doing*?"

"You mean besides rearranging the furniture. I told you. I was running an experiment. It was successful."

He grabbed her hand, moved it away and then started rubbing his leg himself when the cramp started up again.

"I'm delighted to hear it. What's a little pain if the Captain's happy and the experiment's a success?"

The alien who'd taken over Kathryn Janeway's body looked at him in satisfaction.

Alien possession was the only possible hypothesis. Kathryn Janeway would *never* rearrange furniture.

"Want to clue me into what the purpose of this little experiment of yours was? That is, of course, *besides* critically injuring your XO?"

She ignored the sarcasm. "I'm sorry about the leg. But the experiment was necessary. It was about nothing."

"Come again?" He was right. Possession was a definite possibility; probably demonic possession. It had happened once; it could happen again. She didn't look possessed, but still...

"It was about nothing. Or rather, it was about *doing* nothing - 'the absence of action.' Something this crew is incapable of."

"Stop. I know the definition of nothing. I still don't get it."

Maybe he'd hit his head. It was possible. He'd landed pretty hard in the fall. But a concussion wouldn't explain how the furniture got rearranged. He looked at her suspiciously as she helped him up and over to the couch.

"This ship is on overdrive. It needs to stop. You just proved my theory."

He tried to humor her. "The last time I checked, we were moving at warp 9. Fast, but still within the parameters of what's acceptable for the warp engines."

She looked at him like he was a first year cadet found wanting. He waited, unnerved. She, or the "whatever", was making him incredibly jumpy. Her hand was on his thigh again, his upper thigh, and if it came up any higher, his anatomy was going to do precisely that. He shifted away from her and breathed a sigh of relief when her hand disconnected. He didn't like her smile of satisfaction. It was scary.

"Not the ship, Chakotay, I meant the crew, of course. They're on overdrive. You just proved my theory."

He tried again, gently. Maybe *she'd* hit her head. "Kathryn, we haven't proved the theory yet. We're still working on it. But the latest results look good. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. B'Elanna and and Seven are having a disagreement about how to proceed and -"

"Not that theory. My theory. Well, the other one's my theory too. But that one's scientific. This one's sociological. The results are in. The crew of this ship is working too hard."

His expression must have been one of complete confusion and astonishment. He certainly felt that way. Kathryn Janeway, the queen of overtime, was worried about working too hard; the woman who hadn't taken off a day in nearly three – no, four years, unless she was forced to. He was right. This was scary.

"I thought you were the best specimen to try the experiment on."

"Thanks a lot. I've been called a lot of things before, but specimen's a new one."

"Chakotay, think about it." She shook her head, exasperated. He understood the feeling. She paused, and then started in. "All right, let's take this a point at a time. With the possible exception of Tuvok, and I don't think Vulcans count in this case, you're considered the most centered person on Voyager, except of course when you're pulling one of your harebrained stunts - "

"I never pull harebrained stunts."

The Captain stared at him in disbelieving silence. She finally continued. "Don't try to distract me. It won't work. To continue, a point at a time. Do you consider yourself centered or not?"

"Well, yes."

She smiled knowingly. "Exactly. When's the last time you actually *asked* before you came barging in the Ready Room?"

He paused, thinking. "I can't remember. I didn't think it bothered you. I'm sorry if it does. I'll change that immediately, Captain."

He couldn't believe it. He'd just gotten up off the floor, and now she was calling him on the carpet.

"It *doesn't * bother me. It's *never* bothered me. I'm delighted that you're comfortable enough to do it. The point is that even you, one of the most centered people on Voyager, have gotten too busy to knock."

"I -"

"And when's the last time you said 'Good morning, Kathryn. How was your evening, Kathryn? How about having lunch, or dinner, or spending time on the holodeck with me, Kathryn?' "

"I can't remember. You never went anyway, at least, not often."

She smiled. "Exactly. You just don't remember. Chakotay, you need to stop and smell the roses."

"I -uhh, you never do." His thoughts went to roses and then on to Lake George. Then he remembered. He'd had high hopes for the evening and they'd ended up arguing about crew rations. Whoever this was, it was *not* Kathryn Janeway, at least not the one he knew. Her next comment was even more confusing.

"I made a mistake. I intend to rectify that starting now."

Her smile was making him decidedly uncomfortable. The room suddenly seemed hotter, and if he had any personal space left that she wasn't in, he couldn't see it. He got up and moved away, sore leg or not. If she got any closer, he wouldn't be able to be responsible for his actions, and more importantly, reactions. Full-scale retreat was called for.

She looked at him wryly. "I can see this is going to take a while."

"What's going to take a while?"

"Chakotay, this crew needs to relax. You need to relax. We all need some downtime."

He thought about his options, and finally decided to humor her until he figured out what in the universe she was talking about. "There's a class M planet two weeks from here that we can divert to. It's off course, but -"

"Not good enough. We don't need a vacation. The crew needs to learn to relax. Something needs to be done now. Call a Senior Staff meeting in five minutes in the Briefing Room. We've got to talk about the results of the experiment."

He stared at her, dumbfounded, as she got up and walked through the Ready Room door and onto the Bridge. A woman who expected him to put together a staff meeting in five minutes or less was a Janeway he understood. The rest - well, he'd have to wait and see what happened.

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Janeway was waiting when Chakotay finally gathered the last of the Senior Staff into the Briefing Room, five minutes late. B'Elanna was arguing with him, as usual, about the need to get back to work. He ignored her.

The Captain looked at Chakotay expectantly. He didn't know what she wanted. At a loss for ideas, he just followed the regs. "All departments, report current status. Engineering first." Janeway looked at him approvingly, as if he'd just passed some sort of test.

B'Elanna looked at him like he'd grown a third ear, then shrugged and started in. "We're working on the dilithium overchange. We finished the first part of the experiment, and-"

Janeway broke in. "B'Elanna stop. The Commander asked for the current status of the ship, not the status of theoretical experiments."

"Excuse me?" B'Elanna looked at Janeway, and then at Chakotay for clarification. He just shrugged, as confused as she was.

Janeway answered. "I want to know about the status of all operational parts of this ship, not about the improvements you're working on."

"Uh...warp engines online and fully operational. Environmental, astro, transporters - everything's at 100% capacity right now. We have enough dilithium from the last haul to even rebuild the warp engines from scratch if we had to. But - "

"That's fine, Lieutenant." Janeway looked back at him again. After a moment Chakotay got his act together and commented, " Uhhh... astrometrics and operations, report." Not the slickest he'd ever managed, but ...

Kim turned green. "Let me pull up the star charts."

After ten minutes, Janeway commented, "Thank you, Ensign. A brief synopsis will do."

Kim rallied. "We're in a dead area of space. To the best of our ability to determine, it's perfectly safe. There are no planets or stars for the next six weeks if we continue at warp nine. All operations are fully functional." Kim sighed, relieved, when Janeway nodded at him.

This time when the Captain looked at Chakotay, he was ready. "Seven, do you have any additional knowledge of this area that might differ with Mr. Kim's assessment?"

"No, Commander. The Borg explored the area in detail and left because there was nothing of interest."

"Thank you. Commander Tuvok?"

You could claim Tuvok was any number of things, but slow on the uptake wasn't one of them. "Weapons are at 99.87 capacity, Commander."

"Mr. Neelix, supplies?"

Neelix surprised him. The Talaxian wasn't normally one for brevity, but then, what was normal about this day. "We have enough fresh and dried food for nearly four and a half months."

"Doctor?"

"I have just completed the quarterly medical reports, Commander - not that I expect that anyone has read them." When Chakotay glared at the hologram, the Doc added grudgingly, "Everyone's fine."

"Mr. Paris?"

"Moving at warp nine, and we might as well stay on autopilot. There isn't even an asteroid field out there. It's going to be a boring six weeks."

Chakotay completed the ritual and summarized the discussion. "Captain, all departments report that they are fully functional, operating at nearly 100% capacity. The planned area of exploration is predicted to be safe provided we stay on current course. At warp nine we should be through the area in six weeks."

She smiled at him. "Good. Mr. Paris, take us down to warp 6."

"What?" Paris choked and recovered. "Uh... Captain. I don't think I could have heard you correctly. I thought you said to take us down to warp six. That'll delay us nearly two weeks."

"That's right. We'll still have double the foodstuffs we need to get through, even without using the replicators."

She continued. "I want all departments to develop new staff rosters and submit them to Commander Chakotay. Effective immediately, overtime is limited to no more than two hours a day for all crew for the duration of time we *are* in this area of space. That includes senior officers."

"Captain?" Chakotay felt like the sacrificial lamb, but he had to be. It was part of the job. He was the one that was going to have to justify her actions to the crew.

She looked at him, the irritation clear in her eyes, and then relented. "Chakotay, think about it. This is the first time since the Caretaker that this ship has been at peak capacity and in a safe area of space for a long period of time. And the crew's still working overtime. It's got to stop. It's going to be a long trip home. We need to learn to relax when we can. Now's as good a time as any to stop and smell the roses."

He was speechless. The only thing he could think of was that once he got out of the briefing, he was going to get the computer to tell him who'd come up with that phrase, and then delete it's existence from the memory banks.

She continued, looking at the rest of the Senior Staff. " I just conducted an experiment with the Commander in the Ready Room before this briefing began. The results were clear. This crew is on overload. We've been working too hard for too long. We need to learn to relax, and we're going to start now. That's an order."

The Senior Staff looked like they'd just been given a death sentence. Finally B'Elanna commented, "Captain, what is it you expect us to *do* while we're uh... relaxing?"

Janeway smiled. "Do? I don't care. Do nothing. It's fine with me. Read, meditate, work out, gossip, go skiing, go hiking, have a party... I don't care. It's none of my business. I'm sure you'll come up with something." She smiled and looked away, and then turned back. "But only two hours of overtime a day. That *is* my business and I intend to enforce it."

She paused, and continued. "In fact, I think a party's an excellent idea. Neelix, Tom, I want you to meet me in Holodeck two after the briefing. I think you're just the people to help with what I have in mind."

Paris and Neelix looked ready to choke, but they just stayed silent. Finally Janeway commented, "It's unusual, but I know you'll need to discuss procedure with the Commander, and so I am not going to dismiss this meeting. Simply leave it. Good luck." With that, she got up and walked out of the Briefing Room.

As he watched her leave, Chakotay wondered what he had done that had made the universe so angry at him.

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The silence in the Briefing Room was so thick you could hear a warp particle drop. But the worst part of it was that they were all starting at him expectantly.

"Don't look at me, I'm just the XO."

B'Elanna looked ready to commit murder. "Yeah, you *are* the XO and if she really does this, it's gonna delay the next phase of the experiments for 12 hours. Chakotay, you have to *do* something."

They were all staring at him again, even Tuvok.

"Commander, I am working on a plan which will improve the photon torpedo trajectory by five percent. To stop now will delay implementation by three days."

"Chakotay, we've finally got the astrometrics scanners aligned right. We can look at another seven parsecs-"

"This part of space is so dead you could leave Voyager on automatic permanently. We have to get out of here."

"I am near to a breakthrough on the DNA structure of the phage. To stop now would-"

Chakotay finally broke into the chaos. "Stop, all of you. Think about it. What is it you expect me to do? I can't countermand the order. There's nothing irregular about it."

Tom interrupted. "It may not be irregular, but it is - uh, *unusual*. Chakotay, it's boring as a horta in hibernation in this part of space. If we drop down to warp 6 it's going to take us another two weeks to get through here."

"Stop right there, Tom. She knows that. So do I. It doesn't change anything."

Tuvok finally broke the ensuing silence. "Lieutenant Paris, surprisingly, has raised a legitimate question. The Captain's behavior is quite ... unlike... her. Perhaps -"

Chakotay broke in. "Tuvok, I hardly think that I can investigate whether or not she's been taken over by aliens based on the order to give the crew some r and r."

Chakotay meant the comment satirically, but when he looked around the room he realized that the thought had been going through the minds of every member of the Senior Staff -even his. He grimaced. Maybe the Captain did have a point.

Tuvok replied, "That was not the intent of my comment, Commander."

Chakotay looked at Tuvok knowingly, and the Vulcan had the grace to look away. But then Tuvok continued. "It is possible that we are simply unaware of the Captain's motives. Perhaps a discussion of the 'experiment' she described could provide an explanation for her recent actions."

B'Elanna looked up at that. "Yeah, Chakotay. You were the last one alone with her. What happened?"

They all looked at him accusingly.

He wanted to avoid that discussion. He wasn't sure what had happened himself. "Nothing happened. That is, nothing much happened. I fell over a chair."

"You *what?*" That from Tom.

"I fell over a chair. She rearranged the furniture in the Ready Room, I wasn't looking where I was going and I fell over a chair. That's all."

Tom finally broke the silence. "That's IT? There's nothing else?"

Chakotay just shrugged.

Tom couldn't seem to take it in. "This whole thing's because you fell over a chair and the Captain's developed a latent interest in interior design?"

Chakotay decided he had to stop the speculation before it got out of control. "No, it's not. Tuvok has a point. The incident in the Ready Room was just the experiment; the method she used to prove her hypothesis. And she's told us that the hypothesis was that the crew 'is working too hard, and needs some down time'- which is *not* something she'd notice if it wasn't brought to her attention. So, who's been talking to the Captain about the need for the crew to slow down?"

All of the eyes that had been resting on him accusingly were now focused in another direction - away.

Except Neelix. "Well, I have." The Senior Staff rounded on the Talaxian, but he took it in stride. "It shouldn't matter. I've been telling her that every day for the last five years. She's never paid any attention to me before. There's no reason to suppose she would now. Although I did mention, yesterday, that no one has volunteered for the Prixen arrangements. And I can't do it all myself."

The Doctor spoke up. "Mr. Neelix is correct. The Captain doesn't usually act on recommendations to relax. I filed the quarterly evaluations of the crew's mental and physical health yesterday, and also recommended that some recreation was in order soon."

The eyes of the Senior Staff shifted accusingly to the Doctor. He looked back defensively. "I said SOON, not immediately. I've been saying the same thing in the logs for the last five years. Although I did also mention that I was annoyed at the crew's unwillingness to make appointments because they are 'too busy.' I have been unable to continue my work with the Diva because of all the schedule changes."

"Anyone else?"

B'Elanna looked up guiltily. "I did say yesterday morning that the new experiment was going to be a drain on personnel, and that the staff situation was pretty bad -"

Tom broke in. "B'Elanna, you say that all the time."

"I don't. And what about you, fly-boy? Don't tell me you've kept your mouth shut and haven't been whining lately."

Tom looked back at her guiltily. " I did say that if we were going to be drifting through what has got to be the most boring part of space in the galaxy that the least she could do was let us all go play in the holodeck. And I think I said that no one ever had the time to go there anymore." When B'Elanna looked *really* ready to murder, Tom commented, "It was a JOKE. I swear she knew it was a joke. At least I wasn't -"

Chakotay interrupted. "Enough. We better get it all out. Tuvok?"

"The incident was unimportant. And it was not, precisely, an incident. As it was of low priority, I intended to file a report later today."

Chakotay considered taking a trick from B'Elanna's deck and murdering the Vulcan. Chakotay thought they'd gotten past leaving him out of the loop on Security years ago. "Get on with it."

"It was a minor incident, Commander. I overheard a disagreement between Ensigns Jerron and Ali about their workspace's size. As the spaces are theoretically identical, I was intrigued and stopped to listen. Ensign Ali had 2.5 centimeters more of bench space than Ensign Jerron and therein lay the problem. I interrupted and divided up the centimeters equally. I later saw them in Sandrines playing pool together and so I logically assumed the problem had been resolved. The Captain was in Sandrines and asked why I was interested in Jerron and Ali. I relayed the incident. I believe the comment I made was that minor as they are, such altercations are ... unfortunate. They distract from efficiency. And I said that it was probable that all of the crew could benefit from more physical activity to ease the tension."

Tom laughed. "Hell, Tuvok, why don't you wave a red flag in front of a -"

Chakotay broke in. "Stow it, Lieutenant. And DON'T finish that sentence or you'll be cleaning warp particles off the nacelles for a week. Harry?"

Kim looked extremely uncomfortable. "Uhh... I did have a meeting with the Captain in the Astrophysics lab yesterday. I told her about the problems we'd had in realignment. She came up with a solution. It was really stupid of me to have missed it. A two-year cadet could have figured it out. I was... embarrassed, and so I guess I used tiredness as an excuse."

"Get on with it, Harry."

"The Captain looked at me and said I probably needed some r and r. I just agreed. I'm sorry, Commander."

"All right. So in the last twenty-four hours-"

Seven interrupted. "Commander Chakotay, I too had a conversation with the Captain about this topic." Chakotay thought, amused, that the best description of Tuvok's expression was the Vulcan equivalent of his jaw hanging open. The rest of the Senior Staff didn't even try to dissemble. They were staring in awe.

Chakotay caved in, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Seven? I thought you considered relaxation irrelevant."

She looked at him with what he could have sworn was an annoyed expression. "I do. I simply overheard Mr. Kim's conversation with the Captain. Afterward, I asked the Captain what 'r and r' meant. I explained that it was a term I have never heard used by any of the Voyager crew."

Tom whistled. "Talk about putting a nail in the coffin..."

"I do not understand your reference, Mr. Paris."

Chakotay broke in. "It's not important, Seven. Let me see if I can sum this up. In the last twenty-four hours, each of you have 'reported, commented, joked, whined, complained or asked for clarification' from the Captain about stress or the need for more recreational time for the crew. And none of you bothered to mention this to me, which I might add as XO, is where such comments should have been directed."

He watched in satisfaction as each of them looked away guiltily.

B'Elanna broke in. "Chakotay, you've been busy."

"Not good enough."

"And, when you're busy, well, if anyone complains, you tend to *do* something."

"What?"

She shifted in her chair, uncomfortable. "You know, *do* something; solve the problem or tell us to. It was all just *stuff*. No one wanted anything to *change*, it was just, well, whining."

"I see."

She looked back at him. "But *this* is important. What *are* you going to do?"

There it was again. They were all looking at him expectantly. The hell with it.

"Nothing. I intend to do nothing. Rather, I am going to look up when I walk into the Ready Room, in case she decides to rearrange the furniture again. But nothing else."

Tom broke in. "Chakotay, you *have* to do something. You're the only one she'll listen to."

"You've heard the old adage, Tom. You've made your bed...and anyway, I'm simply implementing orders like a good XO should. Check the regs -Section 15, paragraph 57. And while you're at it, you all might want to check Section 15 paragraphs 5 - 57. It covers the XO responsibilities and general reporting lines. Got it?"

Silence again. "Good." He relented. "Look, people. She didn't tell you you can't work on experiments. She just said you can't do it every waking hour for the next eight weeks. It's not the end of the universe. We all might actually enjoy it."

The looks he got were not encouraging, not even from Neelix. He gave up. "I expect new rosters without overtime on my desk from each department head in five... uh... ten hours." The overtime business was already giving him a headache. "Tom, Neelix, report to the Captain now. You have an extra three hours to file reports. Dismissed."

Chakotay sat there for a while after they'd left, thinking. The Captain might be right about the crew needing to relax. While much of the conversation had been just whining, some of the complaints had been perilously close to evidence of real stress setting in. And, anyway, it couldn't hurt to take it easy for a while. After all, what could possibly happen? He got up to make sure the orders to "relax" were underway.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Experiment**

Part Two

The crew mutinied. Chakotay couldn't call it that in the logs, of course. He couldn't even *put* it in the logs. If they ever did get back home HQ would lock him away permanently for putting crew on report because they wanted to work overtime. They'd have a point. But with 87 complaints about the Executive Order in three days, mutiny described the situation perfectly.

The Senior Staff was being ugly. It was payback, pure and simple.

B'Elanna had started the mess by sending the first complaint in a message to him. He'd memorized it. There was no way to do anything else - he'd seen it 87 times now. It was etched in his memory for life:

"According to Section 15 paragraph 37 of the SF Administrative Manual, 'Senior Staff who are unable to resolve work assignments within their departments due to a change in priority from the Executive Staff are expected to report all conflicts to the XO for recommended action,' so have fun, Chakotay."

Of course, she'd cc:ed the entire Senior Staff. The woman had an evil mind. And if he ever met the Admiral who came up with that particular reg, he might really be tempted to commit murder.

Torres, Paris, Neelix, Matsushita, de Angelo, N'afa'ti, Kim ... all of them had resorted to the tactic. Unfortunately for him, he knew they didn't mean it maliciously. They were all just angry, at him indirectly, but more at themselves. They didn't know what to do with the problem. Neither did he, for that matter. He hadn't had a good night sleep since the Captain had issued the order. Only Tuvok had stayed out of it. And Chakotay was pretty sure that that was because the entire Security team was too busy monitoring the mood on the ship. Chakotay agreed. It wasn't a pretty sight.

But he couldn't keep a lid on the situation without working overtime himself. And he couldn't do *that* because they were *waiting* for him to break. There were 147 crew and the betting pool was at 145, with Tuvok and he the only exceptions. The minute he did break, there was no way in the universe he was going to be able to enforce the reg, which would upset the Captain, and that would upset the crew.

Because the *only* thing the entire crew agreed on these days was, as Torres put it, "If she want's us to take a break, then we're going to take a damned break. She deserves the time off." And so the real irony in the whole fiasco was that the perpetrator was the only person unaware of the havoc she'd wrought.

The lengths to which the crew had gone to keep her unaware of the situation amazed him and the loyalty impressed him. And the situation even would have amused him if he wasn't personally involved. There was universal agreement to "keep it clean" when the Captain was around and to "show her we can do this." Unfortunately, he wasn't the Captain. Even worse, he was the XO. And that was precisely where the irritation was coalescing. He shouldn't be surprised. It was by the regs, after all.

Still, it was the most beautifully orchestrated deception he'd ever seen, and that was saying a lot. It even extended to the memos. One after the other, they'd all shown up in a locked-out private file. Even Tuvok was in on *that* part it. The Vulcan had merely asked to have a list of those with "concerns" forwarded daily. The Captain could still get to the stuff, of course, but they knew she wouldn't snoop in his personal files.

And that meant that they knew, and he knew, that the only one who could proverbially spill the beans was himself. He hadn't. He didn't want to upset her either, which actually made him the worst offender of all, seeing as she'd left him in charge of the whole mess. She'd probably court-martial him if she ever figured it out. He smiled. Not a bad idea.

But he was worried. Even in his best moments he knew that the whole situation was a powder keg waiting to explode.

It would have exploded if he and Tuvok hadn't walked into the Mess Hall for dinner at exactly the same time and precisely the right moment.

Chakotay's first indication that the powder keg was lit was the crash of the tables onto the floor. The second was when Dalby fell backwards into him, nearly knocking him to the ground. Dalby regrouped and started back towards Harrington.

Chakotay watched, frozen, and then stopped Tuvok from intervening. Then he walked into the middle of the fight.

"Dalby, you always did have lousy follow through with your right."

Dalby took a swing at him. Chakotay responded defensively, punched Dalby in the gut, and watched with satisfaction as Dalby hit the deck. Harrington started after him, but the look Chakotay sent him stopped the man cold.

Chakotay looked back at Dalby, who was sitting up on the floor. "Like I said, lousy follow through. You've always left yourself wide open to a counter attack. Tuvok, give me your professional assessment. Wouldn't you agree?"

The Vulcan looked at him for a moment and then responded, "I would, Commander."

Chakotay looked at Harrington and shrugged. "Not that Harrington here's any better. Tuvok, what's your view on his performance?"

"Lacking in strategy and sense, Commander."

"Exactly." Chakotay looked at both the men and the crowd that had gathered. "Still, for novices, it wasn't too bad." He found the most condescending tone he could drum up at the moment, which actually wasn't very hard, and then looked back at the fighters. "You're evenly matched."

Then he waited. He knew Dalby was personally responsible for the deaths of at least 50 Cardassians, and Harrington had been known as one of the best fighters in Starfleet. They both looked ready to kill him. It didn't faze him. He had nothing to lose except his life. At least he'd be able to sleep.

When the silence settled in, Chakotay finally said, "So let's take this one step further, just to make it more interesting. I expect you both to participate in a match tomorrow night." He looked around at the crowd, cynically. "I'm sure the vicarious 'thrill' you two have given the crowd as a demonstration will help to heighten the interest."

He looked back at Dalby and then Harrington and let the irritation he was feeling come through in his tone. "The holodeck at 1800. Tomorrow night. You can kill each other then and I won't give a damn, but not before. And not here. Got it?"

Chakotay could see from the look in their eyes that his orders weren't going to be enough. The crowd's voyeurism wasn't enough. He wasn't enough. Not even Tuvok and Tuvok's phaser were going to be enough. Because if the Vulcan actually had to resort to using the weapon, the whole situation would blow like the powder keg it was.

"Looks interesting, Commander. Want to let me into the joke?"

Chakotay turned away from the threat in Harrington's eyes and into Kathryn Janeway's mild expression of interest. He had an idea, rejected it, and then knew he was going to do it anyway.

Chakotay paused, struck by a moment of self-realization. He finally understood. He was slime personified. Even now, he still couldn't tell her the truth. He couldn't do it, and on top of that he was going to take advantage of her presence without telling her in order to make the situation work for him. The obvious solution to his current problem was to use the crew's commitment to the Captain as his way out. Disgusting. But he was desperate. And he knew now that he was slime anyway. No one could possibly expect a lot from slime, thank the stars.

"I'm sorry you missed the show, Captain. Harrington and Dalby were providing an example of the very first demonstration match that's scheduled for Voyager. It's tomorrow night. As they have *reputations* on Voyager as expert fighters, I wanted to start with them. I expect the scheduling of the match will generate enough enthusiasm and understanding in all the crew to establish a precedent."

He paused and continued. "It's a new recreational activity Commander Tuvok and I are proposing; matches against similar opponents who have an interest in fighting it out." He looked at Harrington and Dalby. "Even novices."

Chakotay scanned the two camps that had been informally established around Harrington and Dalby. "A new schedule of events is now established. Contestants can sign themselves up, as they become interested, for any hour of the day, whenever they want. I expect it to be very popular. "

He turned his back on the Captain, and looked around the room in a way he hoped she saw as casual. But he made his message clear to each and every crewmember he made eye contact with. They had better get a grip and get the point. If they wanted to fight they'd schedule it and do it cleanly, and stay out of his way. If they didn't stay in the parameters he'd just set up, the Doc was going to be busy. And he was going to be a very, very cheerful man for a while. Relieving tension always made him cheerful. The Maquis knew that already, and he'd be delighted to introduce the Fleeters to the concept. Of course, that was only until one of them finally beat him to a pulp. Still, it was going to be worth it.

But it wasn't over yet. The Captain asked, "Commander Tuvok?"

To Chakotay's surprise, Tuvok backed him. "I agree with Commander Chakotay. The matches are a logical outcome of your experiment, Captain. 'Infinite diversity in infinite combinations' is a philosophy that has long been advocated by Vulcans to other races. The proposed demonstrations hold much promise in furthering that belief on Voyager, if only from a limited perspective."

When Janeway looked unconvinced, the Vulcan continued. "Captain, I have told you before that I believe that the crew needs more training in hand-to-hand combat. This situation provides an acceptable manner in which to implement that suggestion."

She looked at the Vulcan, and then at Chakotay, searching their expressions for something. What she saw seemed to resolve her questions. "All right, I agree. I don't like the idea that the tournament was officially orchestrated by the two of you, but I suppose it'll take some time for casual recreation to become the norm. Thank you. I look forward to the exhibition tomorrow."

The crowd dispersed the minute Janeway moved away. Chakotay watched Harrington and Dalby leave with satisfaction. The best description he could think of was "slinking away like the worms they were." Good. They deserved the epithet.

After the Captain walked away, Tuvok rejoined Chakotay.

"Commander."

"Yeah, I know. Slime."

"Commander?"

"Sorry, Tuvok. I was just thinking aloud."

"My experience with humans suggests that this is just the first of many similar incidents we should expect."

"I know."

Tuvok continued. "Once established, I believe your idea of physical matches to settle disagreements will be successful. However, it will be difficult to institute the matches as the norm, even with Dalby and Harrington's serving as a precedent, unless we are available when incidents occur to help 'encourage' memory."

Chakotay sighed, and made the transformation to complete and utter slime. "I know, Tuvok. Thanks for volunteering to help me oversee the recreation schedule." He watched the look of comprehension settle over the Vulcan's face and then continued. "Seeing as we have so much free time on our hands, it would only be ...uh...neighborly to use it to further the crew's interest in new sports. All in the interest of encouraging 'relaxation', of course."

"Of course. What type of volunteer schedule did you have in mind, Commander?"

"Forty-eight hours on, forty-eight off, rotated between the two of us."

"I would prefer two for three."

If Chakotay didn't know better, he'd swear the Vulcan had just made a joke. "Come again?"

"Commander, Vulcans do not need as much sleep as humans. And our stamina is considerably greater. I am suggesting your two days to my three."

He thought about arguing, but Tuvok had a point. "Thanks. We'll need to keep each other up to date continually on all the matches. I wouldn't want anyone's training to suffer because of faulty communication between the coaching team."

"I understand your intent, Commander."

"Thanks, Tuvok."

Jcjcjcjcjcjc

Two weeks later Chakotay sat waiting for Tuvok, staring at the scene in front of him. It was the Captain's long anticipated party. She'd constructed the program around an evening view of the ocean. He thought, vaguely, that there was some resemblance in the program to Neelix's cabana, and then corrected himself. Comparing this to that was like comparing Voyager to one of the shuttlecrafts. This was perfect in every detail and amazingly beautiful.

He sighed, and looked away from what he would normally consider a spectacular sunset of oranges and reds and golds and back down at his drink.

The last two weeks had been so busy he hadn't had any time to think, let alone enjoy a sunset. Now that he had a few minutes, the only thing that came to mind was the thought that, in his book, "relax" now topped the list of four letter words.

And that there was no question about it. This new version of the universe was very, very angry with him, maybe even permanently pissed. The last two weeks had really tested his sense of humor. Humor was just about the only thing that had gotten him through the whole mess; that and the fact that ship efficiency was actually increasing, not decreasing, turmoil or not. And, of course, there was also the fact that he was a coward. He didn't want to see the look in the Captain's eyes if he had to tell her that her experiment had failed. And it hadn't; not yet. There had just been come unforeseen ... complications. But if you looked at it objectively, none of them were endangering the ship. He sighed again and looked into his drink. He never claimed it was a perfect universe. Where was Tuvok, anyway?

The Vulcan arrived five minutes late, looking as tired as he felt. Chakotay watched him sit down and then pointed to the drink he'd ordered for Tuvok over ten minutes before. "It's the usual. Saurian brandy, with ethanol."

Tuvok picked up the glass and looked back at him. "To your health, Commander."

"And yours." They completed the ritual they'd established ten days before. The first four days after Harrington and Dalby's blow-up had been ugly. The schedule he and Tuvok had planned had gone the way of all other roads paved with good intentions: straight to hell. Once the blow -ups started, they'd been spectacular. Chakotay smiled to himself. Kathryn Janeway's crew never could do anything half-way.

It'd taken both Tuvok and him working nonstop to keep a lid on the situation. By the fourth day, they'd been so busy that they'd started meeting in Sandrine's in the evening to go over the proposed "matches." It was the easiest place to keep an eye on the situation while they reviewed "coaching" tactics.

Things had gradually been getting better, though. The Senior Staff had taken to the matches like a lifeline, even assigning them when necessary. And the phrase "take it to the gym" was the new fad with Voyager's crew. Initially, there'd been about twenty-five matches a day, but that had begun to slow down.

Chakotay smiled. The irony in the whole situation was that things really were getting better. There'd been a significant decrease in alcohol consumption at Sandrines, for example. It wasn't good for "training."

Of course, that only counted if you didn't add Tuvok and his new habit into the mix. After the fourth day, he'd ordered a half bottle of Saurian brandy with ethanol. Tuvok had looked at it and joined him. And they'd been doing it every day since. Ironic. The only two non-drinkers on Voyager were developing a fondness for the stuff.

"How many today?"

"Ten." Tuvok proceeded to update him on the events. "And you, Commander?"

"Only seven." Chakotay ran through the list. He looked at Tuvok when he was done, and saw hesitation in the man's eyes. He sighed. "Out with it, Tuvok. I can handle it."

"There was an unusual match scheduled today, Commander. It is between departments, not individuals."

Chakotay sighed. "Which departments?"

"Astrophysics and Engineering."

"I thought things were going well there. Are Torres and Kim in on it?"

"Yes. But, Commander, the circumstances are unusual. When I investigated the situation, I could find no evidence of disagreement between the two departments. In fact, when questioned, both groups agree that they have been working quite well together. Lt. Torres described the match as 'just a game.' She also told me, as she phrased it, 'to lighten up.'"

Chakotay stared at the Vulcan in awe. "Are you telling me they're doing it for *fun*?"

"That is essentially correct, Commander."

"I'm not going to survive this." Chakotay looked down and took a drink. Tuvok joined him. They sat there, glumly -well, he was glum, he didn't know what the Vulcan equivalent was but he was pretty sure it was in Tuvok's eyes - watching the party after that. Chakotay finally said, "Tuvok, I hesitate to mention this, but this is just the start of it."

There it was. The expression he'd been waiting for - the Vulcan equivalent of horror. He'd learned a lot about Vulcan expressions of "non-emotion" in the last two weeks. Horror was one of the first he'd learned to recognize. Chakotay continued. It was best to put the Vulcan out of his misery fast. "The best analogy I can think of is human adolescents. They're all behaving like human adolescents. They didn't like the order, and they threw a collective temper tantrum when it was enforced. The problem is that now they've actually begun to enjoy the situation. And so they're going to find lots of new things -alternative, creative, never before tried things- to do with all that spare time."

Yep, there it was again. Horror. "I know. I'm sorry." They both looked away and straight towards Leiko and O'Leary having a discussion on the beach. Chakotay glanced back at Tuvok. "Aren't they scheduled for a match tomorrow?"

Tuvok commented, "Yes. I will take care of it, Commander." The Vulcan got up and moved away. Tuvok looked almost relieved, as if the situation between the two crewmen was something he knew he could handle. Chakotay understood the feeling.

Chakotay was so intent on watching Tuvok that he nearly jumped out of his skin when someone put a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at Kathryn Janeway and stopped dead.

" You're beautiful." Oh, hell. He was in for it now.

But she was beautiful, at least to his eyes. Her hair was pulled back loosely, almost wild around her face. She was dressed in some sort of chiffon-like thing, held up on one shoulder and wrapped around her waist. It was the color of her eyes. It fell in folds around her to the sand. He noticed, astonished, that she was barefoot.

He was ready for the rebuke, but she just smiled. "Thank you, Commander. You, on the other hand, are overdressed."

"I'm fine, Captain."

"You're in uniform. You're out of line and out of order for this party, Chakotay. No uniforms allowed. Get up."

"Excuse me, Captain?"

"Get up and give me the jacket." He shrugged, gave in, got up, and took off the jacket. She looked at him critically. "Better. But not great." She looked down at his feet. "Take the boots off. I'll be right back."

He sat back down and watched her walk away. When she came back a minute later, she didn't look happy. "The boots. Now."

Enough was enough. He was getting annoyed. "Kathryn..."

She interrupted. "Thank the universe. I was wondering if I was going to be 'Captain' all night."

"Kathryn, I don't want..."

"It doesn't matter. The boots, *now*." He complied. She smiled. "Good. Now the shirt."

He looked at her in astonishment, and then his sense of humor got the better of him. "Captain, I didn't know it was that kind of party."

She smiled back. "Commander, it isn't. The shirt, now."

It wasn't funny anymore. " Kathryn, I don't want..."

"Now, Chakotay." He thought about getting up and walking out, but somehow he knew she wouldn't let it go at that. He decided to call her at her own game. He took off the shirt.

She smiled at him. "Much, much better." He could feel himself blush. And he didn't understand the look in her eyes. "But I suppose you'd complain if I left you like that. Besides, we can't have the crew drooling on the XO all night. Very distracting. Here."

He considered murder, but settled for putting on the shirt she'd thrown him. "There. I hope you're happy."

There it was again - that look. It was almost sultry, and very, very intense. Chakotay decided he was finally loosing his mind.

"Oh, it'll do for now. C'mon." She pulled on his hand and he got up from the table.

"*Now* what?"

"Dancing, Chakotay. We have to start the dancing. It's a beautiful summer night with stars and moonlight, warm sand, and quiet music. Perfect, wouldn't you say?" When he started to protest, she said, "Don't you want to dance with me?"

No, he didn't. He didn't want to dance with her. He'd have to be out of his mind to dance with her. His heartbeat had already taken off just from the way she was looking at him and from her proximity. He didn't want to dance with her, he wanted... never mind. He looked down at their clasped hands and wondered how he was going to get out of it. He didn't trust himself to say anything, so he just kept silent.

She bit her lip and looked away. "Chakotay, I'm sorry. But I want it to be clear to the crew that the party's to be informal, and that relaxing, and dancing, has the approval of the Command team. It's procedure, after all, for the next highest ranking officer to dance with the Captain. And on another front, it's going to be awkward if we don't go somewhere right now."

He looked around the party and saw she was right. There were a lot of people watching them. And he should have known that the whole situation was about protocol. Stupid of him. "It's all right, Captain. I think I can survive one dance."

As he took her into his arms, he hoped he was right about surviving.

She didn't take his hand, just put both of hers on his chest. He wrapped his fingers around her waist, noticing how small she seemed. He couldn't help himself. He pulled her closer, wanting to feel what it was like to hold her in his arms. She put her head on his shoulder and he relaxed into the moment. The combination of the moonlight, and the warm sand, and the scent of her hair was intoxicating. He stumbled. Stupid of him to lose control like that. He pulled away, putting some distance between them while they danced.

She shook her head and finally looked up at him. He saw something he couldn't read in her expression. It almost seemed like regret, but her comment was casual enough. "I'm glad to see that you and Tuvok have become friends. I'd hoped you would eventually. But there's never been enough time before for the two of you to really talk. I'm glad you are now."

She moved in closer to him. He kept his mind firmly focused on the conversation, ignoring the way her body seemed to be melting into his. Tuvok, she'd mentioned Tuvok. Oh yeah. And their 'friendship'. "I'm delighted you're pleased with the situation, Captain."

"Kathryn, Chakotay. You've been calling me Kathryn for years now, even on duty. You're the only one who does. Remember?"

The look he couldn't read was back in her eyes again. With any other woman, he'd swear it was... but that was impossible. This was Kathryn Janeway . He couldn't think of what to say. "Uhh...sorry, Captain."

He could have sworn he heard her mumble something like "I suppose I deserved that." He must have been wrong, because when she looked back at him her expression was completely normal. She pulled back slightly in his arms, and said, " I give. You want to talk about work, we'll talk about work." He was mystified, but she continued, "So...how many did you finally end up with? My last count was 92."

He stopped cold, shocked. "You've been snooping."

She smiled. "Dancing is defined as moving one's body to the music, Chakotay." He regrouped and started moving his feet again. "And in answer to your question, no I haven't; not really. I just noticed there was a large and regular stream of messages going into a new personal log of yours. And there's been a lot of mumbling about 15-37. It wasn't very hard to extrapolate what that might be about. So, how many were there?"

He looked at her in resignation. He should have known. "92."

She smiled in satisfaction. "I thought so."

"What else do you know?"

"Probably not even half of it. The crew has been pretty good at keeping it under-wraps, and you and Tuvok have the situation well under control." She paused, and then continued, "By the way, institutionalizing the 'matches' really was brilliant."

"It wouldn't have worked if you hadn't walked in the Mess Hall at precisely the right moment." His voice sounded cynical, but then, he felt cynical. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. It was obvious she'd planned her entrance, once he thought about it.

She laughed. "Oh, my timing's always been good professionally. It's in the personal arena that I'm a little slow on the uptake."

He had no idea what she was talking about. It didn't matter. He let it go, gradually absorbing the information that she'd known all along about what had been going on. He thought about all the maneuvering he and Tuvok had done, pointlessly it seemed, to keep her unaware of the situation. And then he remembered all the sleepless nights he'd had worrying about whether it was right to keep it from her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You didn't want me to know. And you and Tuvok had the situation well in hand." He started to get angry. She must have seen it in his face, because she relented. "Chakotay, if I'd admitted I was in on it, it wouldn't have worked. You would have felt obligated to tell me everything, and I would have had to enforce the regs or rescind the order. I needed you in the front line. But I did plan to back you up if things got out of control, so I kept my eye on the general trends. And I knew that you'd ask me to stop the experiment if things really got bad. I would have." She smiled up at him, again. "But you knew that all along."

He thought about it. She was right. He had known that she would have stopped the experiment immediately if he'd asked it of her. He looked back into her eyes, mesmerized by what he could swear he saw there and then looked away quickly, before his imagination got the better of him. "Why bother to tell me now?"

She sighed and finally commented, "Because I don't think you see that the first part of the experiment's a success. They're past the anger and the avoidance, Chakotay, and things have calmed down. The crew's finding new ways to spend their time besides work. They're discovering new things to explore. They're learning how to relax. It's working. There will still be some altercations but, for the most part, the worst is over now. The investment in time we've spent to get to this point will help us in the long run. The relationships the crew have built are solid, far more balanced, and less superficial than before. And I'd much rather go into the unknown with a relaxed and happy crew, who know each other's strengths and weaknesses and respect them, than with a hyperactive group of scientists who barely know the names of the guys on the bench in the other room. You made that happen. Thank you."

He looked down at her and started to drown in the look in her eyes again. Somehow during the conversation, her hands had encircled his neck and she'd moved in closer again. She was soft against him, and strong and supple and she was saying something, her lips close to his. If he leaned down just a bit he could ...he jerked up suddenly. "What did you just say?"

She smiled back with what he could have sworn was a look of invitation. "I said that phase two of the experiment is you, Chakotay. I plan to teach you to relax."

He thanked the universe that the music ended when it did.

He escorted her back to the table, not hearing a word she said. Where was Tuvok anyway? There - he was walking towards the table. He'd never been more glad to see the Vulcan in his life.

Tuvok took one look at him and said, "Commander?"

Chakotay panicked. "She plans to teach me to relax."

Tuvok turned green. Chakotay was sure of it. It was a pale but definite green. It made him feel better.

He said, "I don't know what she has planned for you." He watched Tuvok turn even greener. Well, Chakotay didn't intend to go down on this particular ship alone. He needed help. Fast. Before she got started.

The Captain broke in. "I don't have anything planned for Tuvok. He knows how to relax. I'm interested in you, Chakotay. It's clear you haven't been sleeping well, and you seem somewhat... distracted... tonight. I'm sure that's because the situation has been somewhat taxing. But you can relax now. I plan to see that you do."

He looked at Tuvok. The Vulcan must have seen the plea for help mixed with terror in his eyes, because Tuvok rallied. "Captain, I would be glad to teach the Commander Vulcan meditation techniques. I am sure that, along with his vision quests, that will be enough to help him...rest."

"Not good enough, Tuvok."

Chakotay could see the determination in Janeway's expression and his fate written in that. "Chakotay, we'll start tomorrow. 1700." She smiled. "You really do need to learn to stop and smell the roses." She got up casually. "And unfortunately, I need to circulate if this party is going to be a success. Enjoy the evening, gentlemen."

The look in Tuvok's eyes was a mixture of sympathy and dismay. Good. Chakotay needed all the help he could get. "Tuvok, I'm sure she wouldn't object if there were some things that required my attention while I was ... uh... relaxing. I wouldn't want you to have to take on all the responsibility for overseeing the experiment with the crew. It wouldn't be fair. So you should feel free to call on me if you need me. Anytime. Anytime at all."

The Vulcan looked at him in perfect comprehension. "I understand completely, Commander."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

Tuvok walked away, returned, and then poured him something. Chakotay looked up at him. "What's that?"

"Another half bottle of brandy. It appears we require additional ... sustenance... this evening."

"Thanks, Tuvok."

"To luck, Commander."

He looked back sadly at the Vulcan. He was going to definitely need that.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Experiment**

Part Three

The roses began showing up in Chakotay's quarters the next morning, one a day, every day the same color. There were over a dozen now. The Captain, obviously. Only she and Tuvok could get through the lock out, and Tuvok just wasn't the type to send him flowers.

He tried his best 'mess with me and you're dead' expression. It'd worked with Dalby, Paris, Harrington, and Ali after all. The roses ignored him, knowing who was in control of the situation. And that sure wasn't him.

He wondered cynically if he could claim they were aliens and get away with throwing them in the Brig. Unlikely. He didn't want to upset Tuvok. Tuvok was worried about him enough.

So he was stuck, literally, "smelling the roses." Kathryn Janeway had always had a wicked sense of humor.

He just wished she'd go play with someone else - like Tuvok, for example. Well, no, he'd really gotten to like Tuvok. But Tuvok wouldn't have cared if the Captain had sent him flowers. And he wouldn't be engaging in all sorts of ridiculous fantasies because of them.

He stared at the roses accusingly. He couldn't sleep because of the damned things. Their scent was permeating the room, waking him up .

Silence. Apparently, his accusation didn't merit an answer. And he had to admit that he hadn't been fair to them. They weren't the real problem. The real problem was that their scent made him think of Kathryn, which made him think of what had been going on for the last two weeks, which was what was keeping him up at night. He stopped on the last thought, appalled. He was losing it. He couldn't even stand his own puns anymore.

Maybe if he just explained they'd leave him alone. He badly needed for them to leave him alone. He didn't understand their message. None of it made any sense.

He thought back over the last two weeks. When Kathryn had started on "phase two" of the experiment, he'd prepared himself for the worst.

Instead, "phase two" had been completely innocuous. They'd gone to Sandrines and spent two evenings playing pool together, talking to the crew, and joking. He'd enjoyed it. He'd begun to see her as Kathryn again, to remember how much he enjoyed the way laughter lit up her eyes, the beauty of her smile, and the way her sense of humor matched his.

A petal dropped to the ground. He acknowledged the point. Of course, remembering how much he enjoyed being with Kathryn had been his first mistake.

The second was agreeing to have dinner with her in her quarters. Of course it'd all been perfectly innocent - very innocent. And it wasn't as if they hadn't had dinner there any number of times in the last few years. But somehow this had been... different.

He smiled, remembering the evening. He'd expected the usual - a standard meal where they both just grabbed what they wanted from the replicator and then worked on reports for most of the night.

Instead, he'd walked into a room containing an already arranged meal of his favorite foods, along with candles, soft music, and the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life.

"Captain?"

"Kathryn, Chakotay. You've been calling me Kathryn for years when we're off duty. I can't imagine why you've forgotten."

He couldn't remember himself. Then again, he couldn't even seem to comprehend the scene in front of him.

She smiled, and led him into the room. "Come in. Dinner's already made."

He tried to regroup. "Kathryn, you can't cook." He could have bitten out his tongue the moment he said it. He'd teased her a lot about it ... a long time ago.

She gave her standard answer to the joke. "But I've got a hell of a way with the replicator." She paused and continued. "And these are your recipes, anyway. I borrowed your files."

He sat down and looked at the food. "As in, you broke into locked-out personal files by accident?"

She smiled. "Nope. Just resurrected the files that we had on the replicator on New Earth."

He didn't want to think about New Earth. He did his best *never* to think about New Earth. And the thought of resurrecting anything from the place was slightly...nauseating. He turned the conversation aside. "It looks wonderful, thanks. I talked to Kim today about the proposal to reconfigure the main banks to -"

She interrupted. "It can wait until tomorrow, Chakotay. We're off duty, remember? You're supposed to be relaxing."

"But-"

She sighed, exasperated. "Consider it an order. Now eat, before it gets cold."

He started eating to cover his confusion. The Kathryn Janeway in front of him was one he hadn't seen in a long time, one he barely remembered. He must be mistaken. More likely, she wanted him to do something for her, and he was being proverbially buttered up. "All right, Kathryn. I give. What is it you want me to do?"

She looked confused, and then resigned. "I suppose I deserved that, too." She paused and continued, "Commander, you have a very suspicious mind, which is a terrific quality in an XO, and must have been very useful in the Maquis. However, it leaves a lot to be desired in a dinner companion." She looked directly at him. "Chakotay, I don't want you to *do* anything except have dinner with me. And I thought we might talk. We haven't done that in a long time; just talk together about things other than the ship or the crew."

"Talk about what?"

"Anything. About you." She sighed. "Let's take it slowly. How was your day today?"

"I worked all day today."

She shook her head. "I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but I'd forgotten how stubborn you can be. All right, tell me about the recipes. Are they from your family?"

She was incomprehensible, she was beautiful, and she was smiling at him. He gave it up and told her about the recipes. That led into a number of stories about his home and his family.

They'd spent the rest of the evening in holodeck two at the Newport shore on a midsummer evening. The ancient walkway swept past the elegant mansions from over 500 years ago. Then it led out into the wild, between hedges of sea roses, their reds and pinks a stark contrast to the deepening blues of the sky. The gray cliffs were a mass of tumbled rocks below them, stopped perpetually from making their way down to the sea. They sat down on an outcrop, watching the gulls hunt for food as the sun slowly set over the ocean, the waves crashing against the rocks.

They continued to talk about their pasts: about his home and hers and the Academy and the Maquis. They talked about Mark and Seska and about far too much, far too personal matters for it to simply be casual. But she hadn't objected, and she hadn't turned the conversation, or diverted it.

He looked at the roses defensively. She *hadn't* objected. She hadn't minded; he was sure of it. Because when the evening became late she'd thanked him and asked if he'd be willing to spend another evening with her the next night.

Of course, he'd said yes.

He sighed as he watched another petal drop. That was his third mistake.

He tried to explain why he'd agreed. The trouble was he'd been caught, hook, line, and sinker by her casual beauty, her sincerity. He laughed, embarrassed. Uhuh, he'd been crazy all right...paralyzed like a deer in the headlights...attracted like a moth to a flame. He'd started to... there was that damned word again... relax. He'd walked right into it, like a lamb to the slaughter. Stupid.

Now she had him trying to justify his actions to plants in mixed metaphors about animals. No wonder he wasn't getting anywhere.

He smiled, diverted. The metaphor problem was really B'Elanna's fault, not Kathryn's. B'Elanna had started him off into animal analogies earlier that day by telling him he was "acting like a bear with a sore paw."

He shook his head. At least acting like a live bear was better than being a dead fish, a frozen deer, a barbecued moth, or a lamb cutlet. At least a bear had some options. Not that he saw any in his situation. Well, he saw a few. He was going to keep himself firmly grounded, and quit imagining things, and he was *not* going to lose his sense of humor. Because if he did that, he wasn't sure what would be left.

He had been stupid. He should have seen it coming. He hadn't. He'd just lulled himself into a false sense of security.

It was now a pattern. Every evening for the last two weeks they'd had dinner together, sometimes in the mess hall but more often in her quarters. Then they'd played pool, or watched a "match," or more often spent time in one or the other of their favorite holodeck programs alone together, talking about anything and everything until late in the evening.

He couldn't quite remember when she'd picked up the habit of touching him so much. She'd been touching him for years, of course. She'd been doing it with all of the crew. He thought he'd gotten used to it. She was just that kind of person, that kind of leader. She touched people.

But lately... he'd counted one night to make sure he wasn't imagining it. Tuvok's obsession with detail must finally have rubbed off on him. He'd literally counted. She'd touched him precisely five times an hour or every twelve minutes they'd spent together; just enough time for her to do so, for him to pull away, and then for her to touch him again.

He'd should have backed off then. He hadn't. He'd taken her to the mountains instead. He couldn't believe he'd done that. He'd never intended to show anyone that program.

But then again, he'd never had roses taking up occupancy in his quarters before, engaging in a Grand Inquisition.

And, even more unlikely, he'd never had Kathryn Janeway wanting to know his thoughts, and hopes, and fears before.

So he'd shown her the mountains; his mountains - not civilized ski slopes, not even the summer mountains of brilliant skies, high alpine lakes and fields of wildflowers. He took her to the mountains that were home to him.

He loved the mountains of autumn, of peace, and of danger, arrayed in spectacular golds and reds and greens, and of gray skies that turned suddenly blue; the mountains of early fog, and mist, and sunsets that never left your heart once you'd seen them.

The first thing he always noticed was the quiet. But as one listened that changed. There was the rush of the stream as it fell over rocks and logs, the squawking of sparrows and jays, and the rustling of squirrels and deer as they moved away from the path. Later, higher up the mountain, the bugeling of elk as they fought for partners and the bark of the coyotes in the distance could be heard harmonizing with the silence. Even higher, on the alpine tundra, the warnings of pica sounded. Then there was nothing except for the wind as it rushed by over the peaks. He heard the quiet of the wilderness. He always had. Somehow, it was important to him that she hear it too, and understand.

They'd started the hike in late afternoon. It was cold, and the sky was gray, but the clouds were moving fast, breaking up to show a clear blue afternoon and then returning in force. The trail paralleled a mountain stream, climbing up through a densely forested mountain valley.

At first, they hiked on a carpet of shimmering gold through aspens losing their leaves as they settled down for the winter. As they climbed, the trail led into the deep shadow of pine forest. The first frosts had already set in. Most of the wildflowers had died back for the winter, leaving the browns and reds and deep maroons of autumn. There, in the pines, the ground was covered with bright green moss, and mushrooms, and serviceberry turning scarlet as winter set in.

The trail eventually opened out onto a high plateau of mountain meadow with an alpine lake. The wild grasses were the color of wheat, and the firebush was brilliant scarlet against the blue of the lake. The pines began to retreat back down the mountain, only a few groups clinging to the ridge. The brilliant white of glaciers and early snow on the mountain peaks were a spectacular backdrop to the lake and the meadow.

She sat down on a rock and stared at the scene. "Chakotay, it's really beautiful up here."

"I know. Was it worth the climb?"

She laughed. "I thought you were going to kill me on that last part. It must be 2500 feet up from the start of the trail. And at least a 15% grade in some places."

He smiled, and shrugged. She was right, but he wasn't going to let it end there. "You're exaggerating, Kathryn. Either that, or you've been conveniently forgetting that captains are required to follow the Starfleet workout schedule, too."

"Huh! I do work out. I just don't normally do it in programs that start 9000 feet above sea level and end at 11500." She looked around her, smiling. "It was worth it. Thank you."

"Here." He opened his pack and handed her some water and some chocolate. "Sugar. Energy. Go for it."

She looked back at him suspiciously. "Why do I need more energy?"

He pointed to the top of the mountain. "I'd thought we'd climb the rest of the way. It's beautiful up there, Kathryn. Alpine tundra and views for miles."

She squinted in the direction he was pointing. "That's got to be another 1500 feet, and there's a rock scramble at the top." He shrugged, and she smiled. "I think you're right about the chocolate."

They sat there silently, watching the waves of the lake roll back toward them from the cliff behind, watching the grass shimmer as the wind moved through it, watching the mists roll over the mountain tops.

"What's that?"

"Elk, bugeling. The bulls are competing for mates this time of year. I'd hoped we'd see them. We may later. I programmed the weather and the animals to be random within the possible outcomes of a fall scene. You never know when we might-"

"Don't." She got up and pulled him up, determinedly. "Don't talk about the program. I don't want to think of it that way. It's too beautiful."

So he quit talking about the program. He just lived the experience -watching her and sharing the wilderness. They climbed to the peak, and as they walked silently along the alpine tundra, she grabbed his hand. The tundra was surreal, stark outcroppings of rocks amongst the lichen and moss. But it was beautiful. Beneath them, they could see the valleys of pine and aspen and alpine lakes, and beyond, far beyond in the distance, more mountain ranges, infinite in their immensity.

Over all, the mists moved in, rolling over them quickly, then cascading down into the next mountain valley. When the fog finally settled in on top of the mountain, he knew they had to go down, so he took her back down to the meadow, and the lake, below the mists.

He made dinner while she sat with her back against a rock, watching the scene around her. The elk came in to feed just as they were finishing, while the sun set, casting shadows against the cliffs. They sat there a long time, quietly. He shifted, surprised, when she put her head on his shoulder, grabbed his arm, and wrapped it around her waist.

"What?"

"Nothing. This is just more comfortable."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing. They sat silently watching the sun go down and the stars come out. Somehow, he knew she understood the silence, and why he'd brought her there.

Of course, that was his fourth mistake. He knew damned well he should never assume anything where Kathryn Janeway was concerned.

They'd had dinner in his quarters the next night and had spent most of the evening talking about... he couldn't even remember what anymore. He just remembered feeling relaxed and at peace with himself and with her. He remembered laughing at something she'd said and then noticing her rubbing her neck. She did it all the time, and he always ignored it; but for some reason this time he'd offered to help. Stupid. He couldn't even learn from his own mistakes.

Because she commented, "Sounds a lot like New Earth."

He froze, remembering another time. He moved away, backing off from the chaos he'd created, and backing away from her. "I'm sorry. You looked tired. I thought a neckrub might help."

She smiled and started to say something, but he interrupted, trying to remedy the situation. "Captain, I apologize for breaking protocol. It was uncalled for."

Her smile seemed to lose some of it's luster. But in retrospect, he was sure that he'd imagined that part. Because all she'd said was "Commander, you don't need to apologize. I'm the one that's out of line. But I have to try. Chakotay, we were friends on New Earth, maybe starting to be more than that. I don't know. We never got the chance to follow through on the experiment. And then we got back and the situation hasn't exactly been easy. I've made some mistakes along the way."

She looked away from him, and then finally turned back and continued. "In the last few years, there hasn't been much time even to think, let alone reflect on the past. But I'd like to get back to what we had, maybe even go forward, get beyond it. Do you think we can?"

"I've always valued your friendship, Kathryn. You know that."

She looked away from him. "Of course."

The rest of the evening had been strained. She'd left early, claiming that she was tired. The next night she seemed to have resolved whatever had been bothering her. She'd even been more cheerful than usual. They'd had dinner together and then decided to go to Sandrine's. He'd recommended it.

He swore the roses were looking at him suspiciously. All right, it was true. He'd insisted on going somewhere in public. He'd needed the distance of Sandrines, and other people, to help him get through the evening.

Because he wasn't sure she knew the definition of distance anymore. Sandrines was a case in point. He'd been watching her play pool with Paris, with his back against the bar, his arm out along it, when she walked right into him and put her head on his shoulder, laughing at something that Paris had said. He'd reacted instinctively and put his arm around her. He'd stopped, appalled, when he realized what he'd done and tried to diffuse the situation by laughing at whatever it was she had said. He'd waited until Paris missed a shot before finally walking away.

He hadn't realized Paris was such a good pool player. The man owed him one, whether he knew it or not, because he only managed by sheer paralysis not to beat Paris into a bloody pulp every time he made a shot.

He'd known he had to do something about it then.

After Sandrines, as they walked back to Officers quarters, he'd tried to confront her about the situation. What was it he'd said? Oh yeah, something brilliant, like "Kathryn, we need to talk."

"We are talking, Chakotay. We've been talking all night, and we spent most of the day talking."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" She looked at him, smiling. "You seem stressed. I knew I shouldn't have let you try to deal with B'Elanna and Seven again. They always manage to drive you to distraction. Let it go. I *am* willing to take them on. I've told you that before." She paused as they reached her quarters. "Chakotay, it's clear we need to change that situation for a while. Why don't you come in? "

He followed her into her quarters, distracted. "I'm not worried about Torres and Seven. I don't give a damn whether they kill each other off. In fact, I'd be at the match to cheer them on."

"Exactly my point. You need a break from them. I'm willing to try for a while."

"Stop."

"What?"

"Stop. That's not what I want to talk about, and I think you know it so just stop right now, Kathryn. I'm tired of it."

She sat down on the couch, and looked away. "Tired of what?"

He'd meant to tell her all of it then, but he couldn't. He couldn't stand to see wariness in her eyes, her defensive posture, her frozen expression. He settled for half. "The situation with the crew. And, well, you have to stop using me as furniture."

She looked at him, astonished. "Using you as *what*?"

He turned away, appalled at what he'd said. But she needed to understand. "As furniture." She still looked confused, so he elaborated. "As a comfortable object that's conveniently nearby... furniture."

She smiled. "What piece did you have in mind? A chair, a couch... the bed?"

He was suddenly, unwaveringly angry. "Stop it. It's not a joke."

She paused again, and looked away. "You're right. It's not a joke. But how you could think.. or misunderstand... I don't know what to say."

He'd never seen her at a loss for words before. He waited. When it was clear she wasn't going to say anything, he finally continued. "Kathryn, we have become very close friends. It's important to me. But the crew's beginning to talk. In situations like tonight where you're ...physically close to me our friendship could be misconstrued."

She finally looked back at him. "Let me get this straight. You're worried about the crew's reaction because you think I spent most of the night treating you like a couch?"

It sounded crazy, even to him, but he had to make her stop. "Yes."

"Don't worry."

"What?"

"They're a smart crew, Chakotay, a very smart crew. They know what's real and what's not. They won't misconstrue anything. They'll just see what's there."

"Kathryn-"

"No. If you think about it you'll realize what I've just said is true." She turned away. "I suspect the only one who doesn't understand by now is you, my friend. And I'm not sure whether to be relieved or worried about that."

"I don't -"

"I know. Let it go. We'll talk about it tomorrow." He started to protest, but she interrupted. "Chakotay, we're both tired. I don't want to say anything now that could be misunderstood. We planned to go running on the holodeck tomorrow, remember? 0900 hours. I'd like to talk then." She didn't wait for his answer. She just threw him out. "Goodnight, Chakotay."

That was last night. He'd thought about the conversation for the rest of the night. Gods, he'd obsessed about the whole situation for two weeks now. He always came back to the same conclusion. She was driving him crazy and she didn't know it - dinners, candles, music, laughter... seeking out his company, spending time alone with him, talking about their pasts, and hopes for the future, touching him constantly, invading his personal space. With any other woman, he might have thought there was a message in her actions. But not with Kathryn Janeway. It just wasn't possible.

What was possible - the only possible explanation for her actions -was that she needed some down time as well and, as Captain, she could hardly go out and socialize seriously with the crew. She needed a friend, and he'd been elected to the position.

As her XO, he could be trusted not to misinterpret the situation. And he didn't. He understood it perfectly. He understood that he needed to run like hell in the other direction before he said or did something that was going to embarrass them both, or even worse, strain or damage their friendship permanently.

He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. He spent most of his free time enjoying her company and the rest of it kicking himself for enjoying it.

The real problem was that all the time they'd spent together had made him remember that he was in love with her. He'd known that all along, of course. He'd known it for years. But he thought he'd gotten past thinking about it anymore. He corrected that. He *had* gotten past thinking about it. The feeling had settled into a dull ache he rarely noticed but was always around. He didn't want to remember. He'd finally accepted that nothing was ever going to come of how he felt about her. He didn't want to live through having to learn to accept that again.

Of course, that was before the flowers.

"Computer, scan databanks and identify the representational meaning of the roses in my quarters."

"White roses with red tips symbolize unity. Loose rose petals convey the meaning of hope. Rose- "

"Stop." He got up and threw the mess of them, especially the dropped petals, in the recycler. There wasn't an answer there. He'd had no sleep for weeks, a crew ready to mutiny, a woman he loved playing games, and the damned Delta quadrant with its relentless uncertainties hovering in the background. He just couldn't stand it anymore, and he had no idea what he was going to do about that.

Chakotay started down to the holodeck for the meeting with Kathryn, distracted by his thoughts. He walked straight into Dalby, nearly taking the man to the ground. "Sorry."

"Hey, no problem, Chakotay. I heard you had a pretty late night anyway. You must be tired. Where's your better half?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Janeway, of course. I heard about the situation last night in -"

Chakotay grabbed Dalby by the throat and slammed him against the wall. "*Don't* say it. Don't even think it. What the Captain decides to do with her time is her business, not the business of worms. Got it?"

"Whoa. Give it a rest, Commander. I'm sorry."

Chakotay released him. "Good."

Dalby backed down, rubbing his neck as he fell to the floor. "It's not like anyone objects. We all think it's -." Dalby stopped short when he saw the look in Chakotay's eyes and stayed put on the ground.

Chakotay stood over him, glaring. He finally said, "Listen to me. Carefully. I don't give a damn what you do with your spare time, but if I ever find out that it has anything to do with speculation about *anything* related to the Captain or to me you won't survive the journey back home."

Dalby choked. "I got it. Jeez, what's gotten into you? You weren't this bad even in the Maquis."

"We're not in the Maquis anymore. Get it straight, Dalby. I don't have time to play your petty games. I'm tired of them. Look around you. There aren't any Cardassians out here. And I don't intend to keep picking your ass up off the ground because you can't find any other way of getting rid of your anger besides fighting your friends."

"Understood, Commander."

Chakotay was half way through the corridor before he heard Dalby's final comment. "Chakotay? Maybe you'd better take your own advice."

Chakotay ignored the comment and walked away. He was over an hour late for the run with Kathryn. He tried to prepare for the conversation, but the lack of sleep for nearly a month made rational thought almost impossible. All he knew was that the whole situation had to end, and end quickly. And that he was more tired and angry than he had been in a very long time.

He slowed for a moment, remembering how well he'd once understood Dalby. Day-to-day hatred had been the norm, and so easy, in the Maquis. Chakotay thought they'd all gotten past that. In the Delta quadrant all their energy had focused on surviving. He'd thought that was enough. He was wrong. Dalby had never let go. Even he'd never let it go. But he'd been able to sublimate the anger and focus on the present. Until now. Until Janeway's experiment, he'd forgotten what the anger felt like. Now he remembered the feelings of hopelessness, of loss, of wanting something and knowing that it couldn't ever be, and of trying to make a difference, anyway.

There'd been New Earth, of course. He had let go of some of the anger, then. He laughed at himself. New Earth was nearly the worst thing he remembered about the Delta quadrant - how much of a fool he'd been there and after, until he'd gotten it straight. He tried to calm his breathing, turning the thought away.

He stopped, appalled that he could let anything as simple as a failed relationship get confused with what he'd experienced in the Maquis.

He walked onto the holodeck. He was going to resolve the situation with Kathryn quickly and amicably. He was not going to let her disrupt his peace ever again.

"Chakotay? You're over an hour late. I gave up 45 minutes ago. I didn't think you were going to come."

He looked around, trying to see her amongst the greenery of the program. When he did, he lost whatever resolutions he'd ever made about her in his life.

She looked up at him from a stream along a running trail, her hair in disarray, strewn over her back and around her face. He could see the contours, every nuance of her body through her running clothes. He watched her pull back from the stream, moving her wet hand over her face and her neck. He saw the water glistening on her legs and watched it trickle down over her breasts, as they hardened from the cool of the stream. She glanced up at him with a mild expression of concern as she arched her back and stood up to see him better.

"Chakotay?"

He had to get the conversation over with. He had to be as clear as possible. He tried to talk, but he couldn't. He couldn't say anything.

He pulled her into his arms, using his strength to keep her there. He molded her body into his, pushing her into him, feeling how it might feel if she was willing, if he could ever admit how much he wanted her, if she'd ever agree.

The last thought stopped him. He knew she didn't want him. He knew that. He broke away from her before he did any more damage, horrified that he'd let himself get so out of control.

"I'm sorry." He tried to pull further away, but she stopped him.

"I'm not. Chakotay, I wanted -."

"Stop. I can't do this anymore. I .. just.. can't."

"Chakotay, I hoped that - damn it, listen to me..."

He moved away from the hurt and from her. "The experiment's over, Kathryn. I don't know what it is that you're trying to prove, but prove it with someone else. I don't feel like being your... lab rat... anymore."

"You really don't understand. I- "

"I do understand. Maybe you're lonely, maybe you need a friend, maybe you just wanted to see if you were still attractive... but... I... can't... play... anymore. I'm done with the experiment. I'd like to be done with being the XO but I don't have a lot of options in the Delta quadrant. So just leave it, and leave me alone off duty, Captain."

"Chakotay, listen to me. That's *not* what this is about. I-"

He didn't hear the rest of her comments. He walked out.

He barely made it through the third corridor before he ran into Tuvok, who blocked his way. Chakotay rounded on the Vulcan, still angry. "Where have you been? I thought we had an agreement."

"Commander?"

"We had an agreement. You were going to help me get out of the Captain's little ... experiment. You reneged on your part of the deal."

Tuvok responded calmly to the accusation. "I can explain, Commander, but I believe you are too angry to listen at this moment."

"The hell I am. What are you doing here anyway? You're supposed to be on watch."

"Mr. Paris is currently assigned to Bridge duty. I am here at the request of Ensign Dalby and the Captain."

Chakotay laughed. "What are you going to do? Throw me in the Brig?"

The Vulcan looked back at him mildly. "Is there a reason I should do so?"

Chakotay turned away. "I don't know anymore. Probably just more than a dozen."

"I do not understand the reference, Commander. Ensign Dalby and the Captain merely expressed concern for your welfare. I established a cordial relationship with the Ensign during our training sessions, and so he came to me informally. I believe his exact words were that 'he thought you were going to do something stupid, he hadn't seen you so angry since the Maquis, and he didn't want to see you get hurt.'"

" I thought Dalby knew when to keep his mouth shut. What did the Captain say?"

"I would prefer not to discuss that right now."

Chakotay looked at the Vulcan measuringly, feeling his rage resurface. "I bet you wouldn't."

"Commander, this anger is unlike you. You cannot function as XO in your current state."

"You think I don't know that? What do you want?"

Tuvok was silent, but finally said, "I propose you 'take it to the gym.'"

"Are you suggesting a match, Tuvok?"

"Two out of three, Commander."

Chakotay looked at the Vulcan and knew Tuvok was right. He wanted to break something, and in his current state that meant he was going to do something dangerous and stupid unless he got rid of some of his anger. Tuvok could handle a match. The Vulcan probably wouldn't even get a scratch, just beat him to a pulp. Well, Chakotay wouldn't object to that, either.

"You're on."

Chakotay let loose. He redirected the rage, the anger, and the frustration he'd been feeling for nearly a month into the match. Time moved in slow motion as he saw every opening, every possible advantage clearly even as a red haze took over his vision. He watched all of the memories he wanted to forget dissipate as he slammed his fist into the images again and again.

Chakotay finally found himself flat out on the floor, looking up at Tuvok.

"I believe the match is mine, Commander."

Chakotay tried to clear his head, and felt his anger begin to recede. "You mean I survived it?"

The Vulcan looked at him strangely. "You more than survived it. You won the first round, and the last has been in question until now. I was unaware that you are as familiar with hand-to-hand combat as you have demonstrated."

Chakotay grimaced. "So was I." He grabbed the Vulcan's hand, and got up from the floor. "Thanks, Tuvok."

"You have nothing to thank me for. It was your idea to set up the matches for this purpose. The opportunity to participate in one has proved enlightening."

"Uhuh."

Chakotay picked up his shirt and began to walk away, but the Vulcan interrupted him. "Commander, I wish to explain why I have not interfered in the Captain's experiment."

"It's all right, Tuvok. It wasn't your responsibility. I was out of line to even mention it."

"I believe you should hear this. Just before we began the match, the Captain asked me to convey the contents of an earlier discussion between us to you."

"You talked to the Captain about me?"

"Yes."

Chakotay looked at the Vulcan incredulously. "When?"

"Directly after the start of phase two of her experiment. I was concerned that the Captain was unaware of the difficulty of maintaining security during the initial phase, and of the stress that it placed on you specifically." The Vulcan stopped and looked away, and then turned back to look at him again. "I am also aware that you are not ... indifferent . My concern was that the Captain might inadvertently disturb you. So I asked her intentions."

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation."

Tuvok looked at him oddly. "That was precisely the Captain's comment." He paused, and continued. "She laughed. And her next comment was that 'her intentions were honorable.'"

Chakotay stared at the Vulcan. "She said *what*?"

"She indicated that her intentions were honorable."

"Hell."

"There is more, Commander. I asked the Captain for her precise definition of honorable. She replied that 'I picked the damnedest things to be precise about.'" The Vulcan paused and then continued, "I have no idea why that particular comment should have disturbed her, but it seemed to."

Tuvok shook his head, and began again. "To continue, the Captain placed the rest of her comments in a scientific analogy. Her exact words were that she believed that you both had once embarked upon an experiment, which she later chose not to acknowledge. She thought now that she was mistaken. She wanted to repeat the experiment, but was concerned that the length of time between events may have changed the conditions or rendered the question moot. When I asked for clarification, she stated that she was concerned that you may have found another answer and in that case pursuing the experiment would be an intrusion and impossible."

" An *experiment*. I should have figured it out."

"Commander, I believe she used that particular analogy to better help me understand her motives."

"She used it with more than you, Tuvok. She even told me. I was just too stupid to see what kind of game she was playing."

"I do not believe the Captain is engaged in a game, Commander."

"How do you know that?"

"I asked her."

"You... asked... her."

"Yes."

"*That* must have been interesting."

"It was an awkward interaction. However, I have learned that humans are not as analytical on such topics as the Captain's comments implied. I believed that it was important for her to understand that I felt the situation to be serious, and one that might result in significantly complicating the command structure, if her experiment was unsuccessful."

"Well, you were right about that."

"I hope not, Commander. I placed confidence in the Captain's response. She assured me that her own intentions were not in question, just yours, and given that, she thought that the most likely outcome was that you might be embarrassed around her temporarily. She assured me that none of it would affect the command structure."

The Vulcan paused and continued, "I trusted her judgment, and chose to not intervene as you requested. I decided that my interference in a personal interaction between the two of you would have been an unwarranted intrusion. It appears that I was incorrect in my assessment. I apologize for the error."

"I don't know if you were in error or not, Tuvok. But thank you for telling me and ...thanks for asking her to begin with even though I never knew ... well, that doesn't matter."

"Commander?"

"Yes?"

"What do you intend to do with this information?"

"I don't know, Tuvok. I really don't know."

The problem was that he really didn't know. Chakotay took the rest of the day off, giving Tuvok the responsibilities he'd normally take on. The Vulcan had suggested it, and looked relieved when he accepted.

If what Tuvok said was true, then Kathryn was serious about pursuing a relationship with him. Chakotay couldn't decide if the whole thing was a farce or a tragedy. He had no idea how he felt about any of it anymore.

Two weeks ago, Chakotay would have predicted that he would have turned her down if she had asked him directly if he was willing to re-explore what they'd had once. He thought he'd gotten past how he'd felt, and resigned himself to their current relationship of friends and colleagues. He wouldn't have wanted to reopen old wounds. And he wouldn't have believed that she'd follow through. She was frighteningly capable of conveniently forgetting personal commitments that were inconvenient to her as Captain.

He knew now that his prediction would have been in error. During the last two weeks, he'd grabbed at the opportunity to spend as much time with her as she allowed. He could have walked away, told her no or said he was busy. He hadn't. He'd jumped at the chance to be with her, even when he thought she didn't mean anything by it. The lesson was that, whatever else he was, it was clear that he was a fool. He didn't understand his own emotions. If they were going to get any of this straightened out, he'd better be very sure about how he really felt, or they'd never get anywhere.

She irritated, angered, fascinated, and entranced him. He felt alive when she was with him. When she wasn't driving him crazy, he felt more at peace when he was with her than he'd ever felt in his life. She was honorable, decent, and caring. She was also controlling and manipulative. And he was clearly still in love with her. If the last three years couldn't kill that, he doubted anything could.

But he'd established a mind set before that had made it possible for him to be around her without acknowledging how he felt. He could again. He might have to, because he couldn't live in a relationship with her unless it was a partnership.

He wasn't sure Kathryn was capable of a real partnership. She'd manipulated him and avoided being honest . That had to stop. The only way he was going to be able to let something grow between them was if she was willing to give up control, admit she was wrong, and talk about problems so they could solve them together. And he wasn't sure she could do that.

Then again, he wasn't sure he could walk away if she offered him a chance. A piece of him still didn't believe in the possibility; still thought Tuvok was wrong, or mistaken. That attitude was dangerous because it meant he didn't trust her. The only way to see if he could trust her and find out what she really wanted, was to talk. The conversation was going to be uncomfortable, difficult and frustrating. He didn't know how to even start.

Finally, he sent her a rose, but it wasn't a rose of hope. It was the same rose he'd given her before Lake George-a rose of peace.

jcjcjcjcjc

That evening Chakotay broke the impasse and went to see Kathryn in her quarters after hours. The tension between them was as awkward as he predicted, and what he'd hoped all along to avoid. They stood just inside her door, both of them reluctant to begin.

She finally broke the silence. "Thank you for the flower."

"You're welcome."

He waited, but she said nothing. Kathryn wasn't going to initiate the conversation. He tried something simple. "Why did you send Tuvok?"

She turned away and looked out the viewscreen. "Once I finally saw the situation from your perspective, I knew you wouldn't want to talk to me. But I wanted you to understand that I never intended to use you as a ... lab rat...regardless of anything else."

"I'm sorry. That was crude."

"It doesn't matter. I probably deserved it."

He waited. From the silence it was clear that she intended to let him lead the discussion. He felt suddenly hopeful. "Kathryn, what was this about?"

She turned back around and sat down on the couch. "I'd hoped we could explore a more personal relationship. And I thought the situation could be defined in black or white. I was wrong." She grimaced. "I seem to have said that more in the last month than in my last decade of command."

He sat down next to her, trying to absorb that she had meant the message implied in her actions. "Why didn't you just ask me? Why the 'experiment?'"

She shook her head. "Starfleet captain and all... always have a plan of attack, and a backup. I'm afraid it doesn't translate well into the personal. The experiment was an excuse. I thought that if you weren't interested in pursuing anything, any ... difficulties... that might arise could be easily explained to the crew as results. I thought we could both walk away without any awkwardness."

She paused and then continued. "You haven't exactly been easy to read, Chakotay. Every time I took a step forward, you took two back. Dinner the first night is a good example. Anyone else would have understood my intent. *You* asked what I wanted you to do for me. But later, when I asked if you'd be willing to consider furthering the situation between us you agreed."

He started to comment, but she stopped him. "You *did* agree. I never ordered you to do anything beyond eat the first night." Her tone was defensive, determined, as if she'd thought about that piece for a while, and felt secure in her assessment of it.

He sighed, admitting his culpability in the mess they'd created. "I thought it was stupid to... open myself up to possibilities. But I wasn't able to implement that idea."

She continued. "That's been the pattern for the last two weeks. You never refuse, but you never let me in. When we went to the mountains, I thought we finally understood one another. But the next night you froze when I mentioned New Earth, and when I asked if we could get past that, you turned the question aside by saying we'd always be friends."

She looked away from him, her tone quiet. "Last night... I misunderstood you completely. In Sandrines, I thought you were just upset that I chose to make the situation public without consulting you. Even after the accusation of *using* you, I still didn't understand that's what you thought I was doing. I finally figured that out today, and only then when you spelled it out. At first today ... well, at first, I thought something entirely different."

He sat silently, thinking about what she'd said. It was all plausible, if he was willing to admit the possibility that she'd changed her mind about a relationship between them. But old habits died hard. He needed to get it all out if he was ever going to be able to trust her.

"It's not going to fly, Kathryn. You're a trained negotiator. You know as well as I do that the first things that need to be clear in any successful interaction are the purpose and that the participants agree to the plan. Your actions and your comments were deliberately vague, and you left me wondering what you meant by them."

She said ruefully, "I know. The really disgusting part is that I had that rationalized very carefully. I thought that if we just had the opportunity to go back to where things had been between us once, then you might be willing to consider moving on. But I wasn't sure you'd be willing to go back again. So..."

He thought it over and acknowledged the probability. It fit. "The homefield advantage. You left your intentions deliberately vague in order to position yourself."

She grimaced. "Well, that's what I told myself. It really turned out to be cowardice."

He kept his tone mild, but he still told her what he was thinking. "You really are slime, Kathryn."

There was silence, and then she finally commented, "I know."

He smiled, hope rising even further. He'd never seen Kathryn Janeway admit a fault before. " I know all about slime. This experiment's turned me into classic slime. I think I could give even you a few pointers on technique."

She looked up, startled. "Chakotay?"

He smiled. "Regardless of the rest of it, I think I understand that this part's an unintended compliment. I haven't had many Starfleet captains turn into slime because they were interested in pursuing a relationship with me."

She looked at him carefully, and then smiled back. "I haven't had the experience of thinking of myself as slime before, so consider yourself complimented."

He turned away, suddenly glad that no matter what happened, the humor might still be there between them. But he couldn't let it go at that. "Kathryn, it's not that easy."

She became serious again. "I didn't think it was."

He got to the heart of the problem. "You've ignored the situation that started between us for three years now. I finally decided I'd imagined it. It hasn't been easy getting past how I felt. Why then and why now?"

"I didn't realize it was three years."

"What?" He'd expected any number of answers, but not that.

"When we got back from New Earth, I was uncertain about command. More so than I've ever been in my life. Being the Captain seemed ... like someone else's job. But it was mine. I knew then that I had to concentrate if I was going to make it work again. There were people depending on us. I thought what was between us had to wait for a while, because I found myself distracted around you."

He started to break in, but she forestalled him. "I know. I should have told you. I took the easy road, and saw it as black or white." She sighed. "It appears to be a very bad habit of mine lately. And then the *rest* of it became habit. The crises kept coming, the arguments between us got more complicated, and it was easier to put it off. I didn't realize a while had become three years."

"I see."

"I don't think you do. I don't know that even I understand it. What woke me up wasn't anything particularly profound. One day, about a month ago, something felt wrong, very, very wrong. And so, when the Senior Officers started coming to me with complaints about overwork and stress, I looked back through the logs and saw the pattern. And then I started the experiment."

He sighed. He should have known it would come back to the ship. "They *were* stressed, Kathryn. The idea to relax was a good one, and it's helped them pull together in the long run."

"The idea didn't do that. You did. You found a way to implement it. It wasn't anything I would have done."

"You're underestimating yourself."

"No. I'm not. I saw a problem with the crew, and so I put out an order, expected it to work, and expected you and Tuvok to implement it. And you did. Simple. Black and white."

She continued. "Don't misunderstand. I don't feel bad about that. It's what I should do as Captain. I don't intend to micromanage, and I do intend to make your life miserable, with reliable frequency. And I do expect you to find a way to implement impossible orders." She looked at him carefully . "And, Chakotay, I know you will."

She turned away, looking out at the stars. "But that's not the point. The crew interaction wasn't the pattern that disturbed me. The pattern that bothered me was between us. When I looked at the logs, I realized what I was missing. The closeness between us, the understanding, was gone." She smiled ironically. "Oh, that's not to say you weren't the perfect XO, and if I say so myself, I was being a classic Captain, but that's all there was. All of the rest of what we'd had once - the warmth, the laughter, the personal connection - was gone. It'd just disappeared without my noticing. I'm sorry I was so oblivious. That must have been difficult for you."

"It was."

"And so I went from oblivious to arrogant. I thought that if I tried.. the experiment, I'd know either way if it was possible to renew the loseness."

She got up, walked to the viewscreen and then finally continued. "It was *very* arrogant. I know that now. I wanted the situation to be simple, black or white. I expect the 'either-or' mentality is from years of command, from having to solve things quickly and never look back. It doesn't excuse it, I know. But I hope it helps explain it. I thought that when I finally said something, you'd either agree or disagree. And that you'd understand my intent. I didn't expect it to be complicated, or for it to be painful for you. I'm sorry."

"You didn't think it through."

"No, I suppose I didn't."

He sat quietly, absorbing her comments. "I don't know what to say."

She sighed, and then walked back to the couch and sat down next to him again. "I can't blame you. I'm not sure what I would say under similar circumstances. But I know what I need to ask. It's what I should have asked a month ago. Do you think we could try this again?"

"I don't know."

"I see."

"No, you don't. I've never stopped loving you, Kathryn. I doubt that I ever will. I'm just not sure that I can live with what that entails, with what you require to let someone love you. You walked away from me three years ago. And you have been ... very successfully oblivious. It was very difficult to get past that once. I'm not sure I'm ready to put myself through it again. What makes you think you won't do the same again the moment another crisis comes?

She kept her eyes away from his, looking out at the stars, as she considered his question. She finally said, "Nothing. I can't promise. I can't predict the future. But I can swear that it's the last thing I want to do. I want this. I want to be able to see... the full spectrum of color. I won't give us up again without going down fighting. Can you accept that?"

"Yes, I think I can."

She searched his expression. "Is it enough?"

"No."

He paused, and when she didn't say anything, took the chance. "But that's only because you're still talking in the singular. It's not your choice alone, Kathryn. You can't run a relationship, at least not with me, the way you run the ship. We have to make decisions together, after discussing the problems. And you're not always going to win."

She shook her head. "Chakotay, it's going to be difficult. I'm used to running things. But I swear I'll try."

Trying was the most he could ask of her, or of himself. He could live with her promise. He sat back on the couch, and put his arm behind her. He needed to be sure she understood the implications. " It means you're going to have to quit maneuvering to make sure you're positioned successfully. No more experiments. I don't think I could survive another one." He smiled at her. "Essentially, you're going to have to de-slime, Kathryn."

She looked back at him cynically. "I thought you said you were an expert in slime."

He laughed. "I am. So I'll recognize it when I see it. I'm probably the only one on the ship that can help with that particular problem." He pulled her over into his shoulder.

She smiled up at him. "I see. Anything else?"

He was starting to enjoy himself. "Yep. You're going to have to tell me, directly."

"Tell you what?"

He just looked at her.

He watched her swallow, look away, and then turn back to him, her heart in her eyes. "I love you."

He felt a tremendous weight lift off his shoulders, and felt peace settle over him lightly. They had a long way to go, but with the last, he thought they could deal with it, together. He pulled her closer as she settled into his shoulder. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

They sat there quietly. He watched the past rush by as he reworked his understanding of the memories. Then he smiled, diverted. "Kathryn, there's one more thing."

She looked up, concerned. "What?"

"You owe me seventeen roses. And this time they better be red. If I'm going to have discussions with the damned things, I want to know what I'm talking about."

She laughed. "I think I can arrange that."

He was suddenly tremendously tired. He closed his eyes, then put his head back on the couch and his feet up on the coffee table.

"Chakotay, what are you doing?"

"Falling asleep. I've been plotting it for a month. Never seems to work out. I think I just might stand a chance, now."

"But I -" He opened his eyes to look at her, to see if she was already going to renege on their agreement. But she simply smiled. "I can live with that."

And with that, he forgot all about sleep, and the past, and started into the future, concentrating on the woman in his arms. He smiled down at her as he positioned them both more comfortably on the couch.

"Kathryn?"

"Hmmm?"

"I may have been mistaken about the experiments. I'd be willing to compromise on some of them. I wouldn't want to cramp your style, after all."

She laughed. "I was hoping you'd say that."

End


End file.
